


the price of fidelity

by laughtales



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, CF Route, Explicit Sexual Content, FE3H Kinkmeme, Implied Anal Sex, M/M, noncon/dubcon, prisoner of war/sex slave!sylvain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:42:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24815509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughtales/pseuds/laughtales
Summary: Felix hadn't been at the Tailtean Plains, doesn't know what happened except that they were victorious and his best friend and king were dead.Little did he know, Sylvain hadn't perished and their next meeting would be under circumstances that made him wish Sylvain were dead instead..Or, Arundel gifts Felix his presumed dead best friend as a trained sex slave as a test of loyalty.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Other(s)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 143
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	the price of fidelity

**Author's Note:**

> for a kinkmeme fill: https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=291292
> 
> Felix joined Edelgard, Sylvain stayed in Faerghus. As the battle against TWSitD is about to begin, Hubert or Arundel, depending on how you want to play this, decides to give Felix a reward for his loyalty and a test of it: his former BFF as a thoroughly trained and broken sex slave.
> 
> +1 for Felix having to show off his sex slave if he wants to keep it  
> +infinity if Sylvain is exaggerating his broken sex toy slightly because even beyond it he’s upset at Felix for turning traitor to his country, and using his I exist only as a hole for you to fuck in response to Felix’s attempts at niceness as a weird mix of trying to protect Felix from the people who trained him as a sex slave and who are clearly testing Felix’s loyalty, and not knowing how to handle his feelings of betrayal for Felix turning traitor for the kinds of people who train sex slaves as a hobby and so is just sinking into his trained behavior even when Felix tries to reach out to him.

Felix hadn’t been at the Tailtean Plains. Not because he didn’t want to be there. Not that he wasn’t chosen for the assault team. Not for lack of trying because Hubert had to drug him to knock him out and keep him down. He had awoken days after the army had marched for Faerghus to Lysithea watching over his recovery in the infirmary. She had also quite literally restrained him to the bed. Whether that was to prevent him from chasing the marching party or overexerting himself in the training grounds was up for debate. The logic was sound either way and he grumbled his complaints to her near constantly. 

Lysithea kept him in the infirmary for two days after he woke up and only let him leave after he convinced her that he wasn’t going to ride after Edelgard. He made no promises about how much he wasn’t intending to beat his frustrations and feelings down in the training grounds. She only believed him after he begrudgingly ate the spiced cake she had baked for him. It had done nothing for his mood, but the thought was nice and he told her as much.

To be fair, she also threatened to warp him directly into the infirmary if she caught him straining himself and Lysithea wasn’t…the gentlest of healers.

His sword carved lines into the side of a training dummy, two more destroyed and littered on the ground. His shoulder throbbed from the healing injury and he cursed, striking the dummy again and again. The more he tried not to think about what was happening in his motherland, the harder he slammed his sword into splintering wood.

He was supposed to be there. 

Felix had been the only Blue Lion to transfer to the Black Eagles and as a result, the only one to betray his country for something he believed in more. He never subscribed to chivalry and honor and traditional ideals but he felt a sense of duty to see the end of Faerghus through. 

That was the reason. That’s all it was.

Not because he wanted to see Sylvain and Dimitri one last time even if it was across a battlefield. He didn’t care for sentimental things like that. He’d cut down friends and his own blood, how much harder could it be to fight his best friend and his former king?

A particularly hard swing left his arm numb and the wooden training sword clattered to the ground. Felix glared like it had deeply offended him and then stared down at his hand which was trembling, not responding to his commands. He cursed as the sword fell back to the ground when he tried to pick it up and clawed angrily at his shoulder.

Ingrid just had to give him the most annoying injury when they faced off in Arianrhod . It ran shallowly across his collarbone before gashing deep into his shoulder. Luin had been going for his neck and he’d deflected it in the worst way possible.

Ingrid’s resolve hadn’t wavered during their clash. There was hurt and betrayal but there was also some unspoken understanding. In the end, they had chosen to walk different paths and follow opposing ideals and they couldn’t let their long friendship stand in the way of that. Her last words as he cut her down pained him in a way that made his bleeding shoulder feel like nothing.

Felix didn’t know if he believed in an afterlife. Both whether one existed and whether it was what fairy tales made it out to be, but he hoped that if it did, Ingrid and Glenn could finally be together there. Together and happy in a place where pain and tragedy and war would never reach them again. Fuck, he hoped all their old classmates and friends and even his old man found peace there.

They may have fought on different sides of a war, but they fought for something they believed in. No matter what that was and what he’d felt about that himself. Now that it was over, they deserved peace.

Only the living had to worry about the future.

He was brought out of his thoughts at the returning sensation of his nails biting into his palms. The injury was bad enough to cause temporary loss of feeling and numbness along his entire arm. Linhardt had healed it as well as he could so there wouldn’t be any long-lasting impairments, but the interim weakness put him out of commission for the most important battle of this war. 

He felt a deep-rooted resentment at the fact that his damned injury was what prevented him from being there when Sylvain and Dimitri perished and Faerghus fell.

Felix didn’t know whether it was a curse or a blessing in disguise.

.

Edelgard returned victorious, bringing with her the first rays of a new Fodlan. Dawn was yet to come but they could see it. She spoke of Dimitri’s last moments with a pity and sadness he didn’t understand but nodded when she told him of his and Sylvain’s resting grounds should he want to visit them once the dust had settled.

Felix didn’t cry. He mourned for them in the security of his room, but he didn’t cry. There wasn’t time to. Not while there was still an enemy to defeat and battles to fight.

Rhea may have been slain and her web of lies unraveled but even without Edelgard telling them, he knew there was some deeper enemy lurking in the shadows, standing in the way of the Fodlan Edelgard had promised. There was Monica and Tomas, or rather, Kronya and Solon, slain at the Professor’s hand before the war even started. The group Edelgard worked with out of mutual convenience. The organization she intended to completely eradicate once they had fulfilled their purpose in her goals.

Edelgard had made it clear that her ambitions would not be considered seen though until they were destroyed.

She only shared how deeply the roots of the organization, Those Who Slither in the Dark, ran the eve before the siege on Arianrhod. Cornelia, the vile witch that had Faerghus wrapped around her finger for so many years, whose blood now stained the stones of the Silver Maiden. Lord Arundel, the mastermind wearing the face of Edelgard’s uncle, watching their every move over their shoulders.

The enemy was right under their noses and while taking a sword to his problems was how Felix liked to solve them, that wouldn’t do this time. Edelgard and Hubert wanted to wait. Wanted a perfect all-scenarios-accounted-for no-fail plan to uproot and destroy them once and for all. Edelgard wanted time. Needed it. They were up against an organization that utilized vile blood magic with a thousand-year vendetta. Edelgard had insisted, _commanded_ , him to be patient while she and Hubert worked.

Felix scowled at his orders but obeyed. He’d been promised a fight and it’d be given to him eventually.

They’d bide their time and do it right and it would be the last thing he did for Edelgard. He had no intention of taking over Fraldarius or staying by her side when everything was over. He was a sword, a soldier, and there would be nothing tethering him to her once her battles were fought and won. He would move on to where his skills were needed.

Felix Hugo Fraldarius didn’t live in the past but he just this once, he was going to do this for everyone that suffered and couldn’t be here to do it themselves and see the better world they had created.

Patience was never his strong suit. He prowled the streets of Enbarr like a stray, constantly itching to stretch his legs and keep his claws sharp. That itch was scratched every time word came of bandits pillaging villages or beasts to slay and he was sent deal with them.

If Edelgard never gave him missions in formerly Faerghus territory, Felix never thanked her for it. He didn’t need or want her pity.

.

He did not appreciate being summoned to the castle three months after the war’s end. His missives were usually sent right to his temporary lodging in Enbarr and aside from one in-person meeting with Edelgard every month, he was mercifully left alone.

According to Bernadetta who heard it from Caspar who had stumbled upon Linhardt sleep talking, they were close to finding Those Who Slither in the Dark’s base. Something about Goneril and underground. He’d been hoping that they would have a location sooner rather than later to begin planning an assault but his conversation with Bernadetta had been last week and no matter how fast Hubert and Edelgard worked, there was no realistic way this summon was to discuss plans.

Felix scowled when he saw Hubert and Arundel waiting for him on the steps of the castle. Arundel looked his usual condescending and conniving self, but something felt off about how Hubert carried himself that had Felix on edge. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. On the surface, Hubert carried the same composed air he usually did. Perhaps it was the too tight line of his lips when Arundel greeted him.

“Ah, Felix Fraldarius.” Felix felt the hairs on his neck prickle at Arundel’s address and resisted the urge to raise his hackles. “I’m pleased you could join us.”

He refused to dignify that with a response.

Arundel didn’t seem to mind. He simply grinned and made a motion for Hubert and him to follow as he began towards one of the detached wings of the castle. Neither of them replied to his inane conversation.

Felix glared at Hubert demanding answers and the look Hubert sent him in return gave him absolutely no answers aside from that Hubert was equally clueless. He almost turned his heel and left but Hubert cleared his throat and fixed him with a knowing and irritating look. _Play along_ , it said and Felix scowled even deeper but begrudgingly followed them into a part of the castle he’d never been before.

“I have heard great things about your services to Her Majesty,” Arundel said, leading them through a series of winding hallways. “I am certain things have been quite busy and stressful, as it seems we are yet again on the verge of great changes.” Felix’s skin crawled at the taunting look Arundel gave both him and Hubert. “I thought a present might be in order.”

Hubert tensed in the corner of his eye. “I’m not interested,” Felix replied curtly, “I don’t need an incentive.”

Arundel chuckled. “So it seems; Faerghus chivalry runs deep after all.” Felix growled at the mention of him and Faerghus and chivalry in the same conversation, a phantom pain aching in his chest. The retort on his tongue was cut short by the sound of a faint groan echoing down the hallway.

They approached a set of heavy double doors at the end of a hallway as Arundel continued. “At least allow yourself the opportunity to see what I have prepared. I put in particular thought and consideration.” Arundel pushed open the double doors and directed them in. “I think you may have a personal interest in it.”

The heavy musk of sweat and sex stunned him as he stepped through the door followed by lewd wet squelching and unrestrained groans of pleasure. The lines of his scowl settled even more. An immediate crude refusal rose to the tip of his tongue, but the rejection died in his mouth when he _saw_ the scene waiting for him.

Three men were in the room; two soldiers and the one they were using to take their relief.

One solider spared them a glance when they entered before returning his attention to what he was doing. Fingers plunged crudely in and out of a red and gaping hole, making a flurry of obscene sounds and he soaked them, and the rim and inside of trembling thighs with trails of cum, his softened cock on display as he toyed with the body in front of him. His other hand firmly held the other’s wrists in place where the man was bent over, pinning them to his arched back and leaving him without any leverage whatsoever, completely at the mercy of the two soldiers to use for their release.

The other solider was too busy to acknowledge their presence; brutally thrusting into the other man’s throat, hands fisted so tightly and roughly into a mop of red hair it hurt to even look at.

Arundel gave Felix a cocky smirk. “My apologies, it appears they haven’t finished with him yet.”

His goading didn’t register in Felix’s ears. His eyes were still fixated on the display in front of him, denial flooding his mind even as his stomach twisted. He definitely didn’t notice the grimace on Hubert’s usually perfect poker face.

The solider had apparently had enough of fingering the sloppy hole and bent over to say something in the ear of the man getting his throat fucked. Whatever it was, a distinct shudder ran through his body and he shifted his knees wider. From this angle, his cock was prominently visible, hard and leaking and hanging heavy between his legs. The solider took it in hand and pumped roughly, the man’s entire body going tight as he came. But the pumping didn’t cease and soon, the other man was quaking from the pain of overstimulation.

The other solider came soon after, groaning and shoving his cock deep, shooting his load directly into the redhead’s throat. His hands in his hair held his head flush against his crotch as he choked him on cock and cum. After a long moment, he yanked him off his softening dick and sneered down disgustingly, grabbing the man by the jaw and smearing the mess of spit, tears, and cum all over his face. “What do we say, slut?”

Felix could deny the red hair all he wanted but he couldn’t deny the all too familiar voice. Five years’ worth of repressed memories clawed their way free and rubbed salt into the open festering memories of a smile that shone like sunshine and safety and a laugh that tinkled comfortingly like the stars against a blanket of darkness.

His blood turned to ice and his heart to stone.

“Thank you, sir.” Sylvain rasped, voice hoarse and broken but undeniably _Sylvain._

The soldiers looked far too pleased with Sylvain’s submission and smeared more mess over his body before coldly, unceremoniously, releasing him. Sylvain collapsed like a broken doll, used and discarded, into the puddle of his own spend. They tucked themselves into their trousers and collected their belongings. “Shame you’re giving this one away; he’s the best one yet.”

Arundel grinned in response and sent the two men away.

The door shut, leaving only the four of them in the room. Despite how spacious and empty the room was, Felix felt the walls closing in and each breath was harder to take than the last and he had an overwhelming urge to empty his stomach. Sylvain hadn’t moved at all from where he’d landed and Felix couldn’t tear his eyes away from his friend.

His friend. Sylvain. His _best_ friend whom he thought gone and dead and laid to rest in Faerghus.

Sylvain, trembling on the ground covered in cum, was completely naked except for a heavy steel collar around his neck. From the marks Felix saw on his wrists and ankles, there were probably chains and shackles on him too at some point. Recent enough that they hadn’t fully healed yet. Sylvain was an absolute mess and some part of Felix couldn’t reconcile this as the same person who used to tidy his room almost compulsively when he barged in all those years ago to hide from his latest fling gone wrong.

Arundel walked over to Sylvain, carefully avoiding the mess on the floor and dragged him up by his hair. “What do you think? Well trained, is he not? I saw to it personally.”

Felix’s heart clenched in ways he never thought he’d feel when he laid eyes on Sylvain’s face for the first time in years. Despite being pulled and yanked at, somehow his hair still looked soft and fluffy. It was longer than he’d had it at the Officer’s Academy. The edges of his face had softened and Sylvain had wholly and truly grown into his already good looks. It ached to see this new grown up version of his friend. That he hadn’t been there to see the changes like he had in their childhood.

It also unearthed a deep sense of revulsion to see the mess of fluids dripping down his defeated and downtrodden face.

Felix twitched for his sword. Even if he was capable of responding and not still overwhelmed with the situation, he didn’t trust himself not to speak with his blade. Some baser part of him thrummed with the carnal desire to run Arundel through and cut off every part of him that had dared to hurt and defile his friend.

He somehow managed to stay his hand but wouldn’t be because Hubert was standing right there and doing so would ruin all the work Edelgard had been doing since the end of the war. It would simply be because he couldn’t decide where to start.

Hubert seemed to realize this and spoke in his stead. “What is the meaning of this, Lord Arundel? Sylvain Gautier perished on the Tailtean Plains; I witnessed it with my own eyes, felled by Bernadetta’s arrow.”

Felix’s ears rang. He hadn’t known that. Never asked; never wanted to know he supposed. But hearing it fractured something knowing it was Bernadetta that had faced him in battle and with it, a nostalgic wave of incredulity. Because there was no contention between the two of them. Berndetta may be skilled, extremely so, but she was a ranged fighter. Sylvain was a cavalier with both Reason and the Lance of Ruin at his command. Even if she got the jump on him, there was no way she’d survived the ensuing close quarter battle Sylvain would’ve commenced unscathed much less alive.

But they had been friends.

Felix could still see it vividly, the memory of Sylvain and Bernadetta huddled together at a table, lost in their own world, hunched over pages and pages of what Felix later learned were Bernadetta’s manuscripts.

Anger rose in chest. Of course Sylvain wouldn’t have been able to do it.

Sylvain was many things. Incredulous. Aggravating. Charming. Soft-hearted and sincere to those he cherished.

He was not naïve or delusion. Not like Dimitri. Sylvain had a clear head on his shoulders and even in their last correspondence, he had expressed his doubts about Rhea’s _holy war_ and suspicions of her manipulating Dimitri.

Above all else, he was loyal. Not to the Church. Not to Rhea. To Faerghus and his King. Sylvain knew they were fighting a losing battle and he stood by Dimitri until the bitter end anyway.

A bitter end that should have ended there. He should have reunited with Ingrid and Dimitri and everyone else who’s blood seeped into the land.

There was no reason for Sylvain to be here.

“He still held breath and I felt it a shame for him to perish in such a way. You have a history with him if I recall.” Arundel addressed Felix.

Felix’s eyes still hadn’t left Sylvain, fixated on the scars marring his body. One drew his eye in particular – a starburst from an arrowhead on his chest, just above his heart. The one that would’ve, _should’ve_ killed him.

He tore his eyes away when Sylvain seemed to grow restless of being on display and not doing anything. He keened and shifted so he was kneeling in front of Arundel, eyes hooded, reaching and silently pleading to put his mouth on his cock.

Felix didn’t know if it was relief or disgust he felt when the older man yanked his head away and put him in place. And then Sylvain _whined_ and the scale dropped into overwhelming fury at the people who did that to him.

Arundel chuckled low in his throat, sounding far too pleased with his handiwork. “I am giving him to you, to help you relieve some stress and tension. He’s been properly trained, I can assure you of that.” He let go of Sylvain’s hair and stepped aside to let him kneel on his own, fingers brushing over the metal collar.

Sylvain shuddered at the contact and then lifted his gaze to look at Felix. Amber met honey and if Sylvain recognized him, he gave no indication or acknowledgment of it.

Felix didn’t want this. Sure, he would’ve liked to see his friends again, but only in his dreams. Or after he passed on too. Not like this. Never like this. Broken, subdued, pride and self crushed, and turned into a toy at the hands of monsters.

“And if Felix were to refuse?” Hubert asked. Later, the thought would cross his mind to thank him for asking the hard questions because in that moment, Felix was still reeling.

Arundel shrugged, shaking his head. “Then it would be a tremendous shame that a sword serving Her Majesty harbored sentimentality for an enemy and an argument would be made for his loyalty.”

“And what of him?” Hubert tilted his head in Sylvain’s direction.

The answering grin felt like snakes coiling around his throat, choking him. “Nothing he doesn’t deserve. There are plenty of facilities for him to serve his purpose. Fighting a war and rebuilding a land can be very exhausting after all. He’s pretty and skilled and a former enemy general with comrades’ blood on his hands; he’ll be very popular.”

The thought of Sylvain in some whore house made his blood curdle. He’d be used and played with. An object for pent up, stressed, angry men to take their pleasure, frustrations, and vengeance out on.

“You don’t need to take my word for it. I understand that you’d want to ascertain his training before accepting. I believe a firsthand demonstration should satisfy that.”

There was an unspoken command in his tone that even Felix could hear. Sylvain perked up instantly and focused on him. This look was worlds different from the vacant unseeing gaze from earlier. It was appraising, shifting between his face and somewhere further down.

Felix would rather the ground open and swallow him whole than have to go through with this. He didn’t give a fuck about what Arundel thought about his loyalty, but his rejection meant a horrifying future for Sylvain and he couldn’t do that to him. The only thing that would’ve felt good in that moment would be killing Arundel but the only thing that would do was quell the swirling amalgam of emotions he was feeling.

There would be no lasting satisfaction.

But despite knowing that, he didn’t want to make that choice. Couldn’t bring himself to voice his assent or dissent on the matter because both options would crush him.

Naïve, is what he thought when he realized that Sylvain was looking at him with what he could swear was reluctance and hesitation.

The choice was never his to make. Sylvain remained where he knelt with that same expression and both it and the recognition of it speared into Felix’s heart with so much force it winded him.

Frowning, Arundel waited a moment more before his eyebrows creased and a shadow crossed his face. A flash glinted over his fingertips with a twitch. Sparks danced across the metal on Sylvain’s neck and Felix felt the lightning that coursed through his body as though he had been the one struck.

Sylvain screamed, his body convulsing as it crumpled to the ground, hands clutching at the collar.

Felix lurched forward without thinking.

“My sincerest apologies, he is usually well behaved. I’m sure he is just excited to see an old friend. Let’s try that again,” Arundel said with a displeased frown.

This time, Sylvain’s hesitation didn’t show itself. He collected himself and got on his hands and knees, crawling to him with his head bowed. Felix froze with a hand outstretched and flinched when Sylvain reached him, hair brushing against his gloves when he rose. He kneeled and looked up at him with cloudy eyes and a fake smile that was so, so wrong.

He tried to jerk away but Sylvain had grabbed the back of his thighs and held him there as he began mouthing at his cock through his clothes. There was a great deal of nuzzling and pressing of lips to the outline of it. Teeth grazing over its length. It twitched in interest to the stimulation and Felix felt his body betray him as it began to harden.

Sylvain pulled back and reached for Felix’s belt. “I want your cock, Master.”

Felix fought down a shudder when Sylvain worked his pants open. The thin fabric of his smalls did little to stifle how warm and wet Sylvain’s mouth was against his clothed erection. Sylvain kept at it until Felix could feel a familiar heat pooling in his stomach and Sylvain tilted his head back and looked into his eyes again to plead for permission to touch.

“Don’t call me that,” Felix spat, cutting him off with a firm hand on his shoulder.

A look crossed Sylvain’s face for a moment and a shadow cast over his eyes. Deep running unfamiliarity at the sight of it made Felix widen his eyes. Then it was gone and in its place were softer eyes and a more familiar lazy smile. It was still wrong in ways Felix hated but it was something more familiar.

If the blank look from before was Sylvain’s true face, the one that couldn’t be bothered to mask anymore then the false smile was Sylvain acting, playing and pretending a role he’d be trained to fulfil.

The smile just now was Sylvain’s mask. The one he wore in front of his father and girls now fitted for a different purpose but the familiar upturn of his lips and the softness that settled into the corners of his eyes were still the same.

Even Sylvain’s voice carried a familiar lilt, one that unearthed a deep-rooted yearning he thought he had buried all those years ago.

“Fuck me. Use me to get off. I’ll make you feel so good. Come on my face or down my throat. Don’t have a gag reflex; you can do whatever you want. Can even fuck my ass if you don’t mind sloppy seconds. My only purpose is to serve you, Felix."

His name curled on Sylvain’s tongue ripped a hole in Felix’s caged up memories. The ones he locked away and not the more recent ones he kept at bay. 

_I’m Sylvain! Nice to meet you, Felix._

_Did you lose to Glenn again, Felix? It’s okay, you’ll get there someday._

_Please don’t cry, Fe. I’m okay. I’ll be good as new before you know it._

_Well then, Felix Hugo Fraldarius. I, Sylvain Jose Gautier, promise you the same. We’ll stick together until we die together. Nothing can tear us apart._

Sylvain looked at him as if challenging him to push him away and when Felix didn’t, he tugged his smalls down. Felix inhaled sharply, fingers digging into Sylvain’s shoulders as he was taken to the base in one fluid motion. True to his words, he felt his cock hit the back of Sylvain’s throat without a hint of resistance.

Pleasure coiled, hurtling him towards his orgasm disgustingly fast. Sylvain deepthroated him and fondled his balls, alternating between fucking his throat and lapping at his tip, pumping him with his hands when he did so. He sucked him off like he was starved for it and, Felix shuddered, like he was made for it.

Shame and guilt and disgust flooded Felix as he felt himself tip closer and closer to the edge. He brought a hand to Sylvain’s hair and despite Sylvain’s muffled moan he didn’t grab or pull on it. He simply rested it there, cradling his head in an act of intimacy that probably exposed far more to their audience than he wanted but Felix couldn’t bring himself to care. It brought him a sense of comfort and he hoped, from the way Sylvain sighed against his cock, it did for him too. 

Felix dared to look down and bit his lip. Sylvain’s cock was hard and leaking between his thighs and Felix had a front row seat to the sight of Sylvain’s lips wrapped around his cock, disappearing and reappearing as he bobbed his head, spit and precum smeared and dripping down his chin.

It took all his willpower to keep his hips still and hold back from thrusting into Sylvain’s tight throat and spilling there. “S-Syl-“ Felix bit down a groan, trying to pull away. The hand in Sylvain’s hair tugged as gently as possible and thank the goddess, Sylvain understood and obeyed. Sylvain pulled off his cock, a string of saliva hanging from his swollen red lips connecting them together.

Then he looked right into his eyes and pressed his tongue right against his slit and Felix fell, flung over the edge and coming with a moan that rang repulsively in his own ears. Ropes of cum painted over Sylvain’s face and hair, but most of it caught on his waiting tongue. His own release splattered on the floor as he moaned, licking his lips clean of Felix’s.

Sylvain opened his mouth and his throat flexed to say something and Felix panicked, instantly slapping a hand over it despite the fog of orgasm still clouding his mind. Everything that just happened was bad enough, he couldn’t fucking handle Sylvain _thanking him_ for it.

Felix pleaded with his eyes, hoping Sylvain could still read him, for him not to do anything more.

“What do you think?” Arundel’s voice cut through the air and Felix hurriedly stepped away from Sylvain, fixing his pants. “Should it interest you, there are also a variety of accessories and toys he has been acquainted with and is trained to use and,” Arundel droned on but Felix had heard and seen enough.

He was going to be sick now that everything finally caught up to him and he couldn’t do it here.

“I want him,” is all he managed to say before he stormed out with as much composure as he could muster. Which is to say, not that much. He could feel Sylvain’s gaze following him and needed to get away from it. Running out of the wing, out of the building entirely, he ducked into the first backstreet he came across and emptied his stomach in a dirty alleyway, dry heaving twice more even after there was nothing left to throw up.

.

“What the fuck was that?!” Felix spat at Edelgard.

He’d gone home and scrubbed himself raw trying to rid himself of how disgusting he felt to no avail. The clothes he’d worn discarded and burned even though it was one of his favorite sets.

Hubert was also in there and judging from the looks on their faces, he had informed her of what had happened. Good. Because he had no desire to recount what transpired in that room.

“Felix, I can assure you that we had no idea,” Edelgard said. Hubert had frowned when Felix raised his voice but Edelgard seemed undisturbed. “As far as I am aware, the Blue Lions were laid to rest in Faerghus.”

“Our- _Your_ men were using him. Syl-“ Felix inhaled sharply. “You know nothing about him, have no idea what it would have taken to break him. Three months. Three fucking months. That filth was doing these things right under your nose and you say you had no idea?!“

“I understand your ire, Felix, but you will speak to Lady Edelgard with more respect.” Hubert cut in, frowning. Edelgard raised a hand, and Hubert held his next words.

She turned to him and her voice rang clear and firm. “That organization treats humans as their toys, their guinea pigs, disposable. You are aware of the experiments they conducted. Repulsed and disgusted as I am, I am not surprised to learn that their tastes have extended to training sex slaves. Also, I am aware of our prisoners of war. I have given explicit orders for them to be treated well while under house arrest until we have the resources to find a place for them. Felix, I can assure you that neither I nor Hubert were aware that Sylvain had not only survived but had also been taken prisoner by my uncle. You have reason to be upset and I thank you for not reacting as you had every right to.”

She looked to Hubert and he stepped forward.

“I requested that Sylvain be cleaned before being sent to your lodgings. I oversaw it myself and can promise that no further harm came to him after you left. He should have arrived by now along with the rest of the belongings Lord Arundel insisted on sending.”

Felix’s stomach churned empty. _Belongings_. As if they let a prisoner, a slave, have those. Hubert had been straightforward about everything else, Felix wished he had just come out and called them what they were. Toys. Restraints. _Accessories._ Things to keep Sylvain in line and open and constantly ready to use.

“I had a brief look at the collar on his neck. I believe the key to removing it may be among the things sent to you, which is why I requested all of it. If is not there, we may have to have Lysithea take a look at it.”

Felix bit his lip. Even as socially inept as he was, he could tell there was more Hubert wanted to say. “Just say it,” he spat.

Hubert shared a glance with Edelgard. “You are free to remove the collar should you desire. However, the fact remains that Sylvain was a highly skilled general of an opposing army. If he were to pose a danger to Lady Edelgard-“

“No.” Felix’s tone left no room for argument. “I am not keeping that thing on him. If he tries anything, I’ll kill him myself.” _Just like I should have back then_. There was no more discussion he wanted to have on the matter. Felix turned his heel. “When you’re finally done with your preparations to exterminate that scum, let me know. Until then, don’t bother me unless you need me to put my blade through something. Also. No one touches him without his consent. That’s the one and only warning anyone gets.”

He left without waiting to hear a response.

.

Felix made a trip through the city, feeling miserable as he walked through the markets, looking around. By the time he headed back to his house, he had a few bags worth of groceries and other things. He wasn’t due for another trip until the end of the week, but he wanted to delay the inevitable for as long as possible so lo and behold:

Felix Hugo Fraldarius went shopping to run from his problems.

He lingered in front of his own door and decided to just face the music. Entering the sitting room, he saw the hearth burning and the dim candle glow from his bedroom. He locked the door and made his way over, stepping over a box he really didn’t want to think about right now as he went.

He steeled himself before crossing the threshold and it still wasn’t enough to prepare him for the sight waiting for him.

Sylvain sat the foot of his bed, clean but naked still aside from the collar. Now that there wasn’t anything horrifying to distract him, he saw every scar on his body, some familiar, most not and his heart ached.

He perked up when he saw Felix in the doorway and immediately settled into a lewd display, spreading his legs and teasing at his hole. Felix held his breath at the sight of an embellished toy stuffing him full.

“Welcome back,” Sylvain purred, hesitating for a moment as if reprogramming something in his mind. “Felix.” He fought down the urge to throw up again. “You took so long coming back,” he whined. “I prepared while waiting for you so you can fuck me right away.” He reached down to show off his hole for Felix to see, circling his finger around the nub that peaked out. “You never liked much of a mess but if you want a tighter fuck without prep, you can take the plug out and fuck my throat again first.”

Felix felt like crying. “Stop,” he exhaled shakily. “Just stop. I’m not going to fuck you.”

Sylvain gave him a look, expression dropping. “Why not? Isn’t that why I’m here?” Sylvain crawled to him and kneeled again. “Fuck me,” he sighed, breathy and sultry, reaching for Felix’s belt.

Felix flinched like he’d been burned and shoved Sylvain away, hard. “Don’t touch me!” His face contorted in pain. He couldn’t bear to look at his friend any longer and he threw the bags in his hands into Sylvain’s lap and turned away. “Take that thing out and get dressed.”

He walked out of the room to give Sylvain some privacy as he dealt with the other unwanted addition to his house.

Felix picked up the box and threw it to the ground in front of the fireplace, rummaging through it looking for the key to Sylvain’s collar. Every item he picked up sank another stone into his stomach as he threw them into the fire. He didn’t know what several of them were used for and he didn’t want to. At the very least, he knew they weren’t what he was looking for and could burn for that.

Nothing looked remotely like a key as he was expecting but there was one particular item that didn’t look like something that could be used for unsavory purposes or torture. It looked, well, ordinary. So Felix held onto that and threw the box and the rest of its contents into the hearth and then leaned back against the sitting table.

Felix felt exhausted. Defeated. Helpless in a way the Tragedy and fighting a five year war never did.

He watched the fire burn, flames dancing and crackling at its new fuel. Whatever wouldn’t burn, he glowered at angrily as though the heat of his fury would do it instead. He stared, entranced, as though the destruction of those things could cleanse away all the pain and suffering and filth associated with them.

Sylvain’s gasp from the other room as he eased the plug out of himself rang far too loudly and Felix dug his fingers into his arms when he heard it. Then came the rustling of bags and fabric before Sylvain padded into the room.

“What-“

“Throw it in the fire,” Felix said without looking away.

There was a beat of hesitation and then Sylvain entered his line of sight and threw the toy in. Felix watched the fire explode, ash flying and embers glowing as it licked at the new energy source.

His eyes felt hot. From the dryness in the room. The proximity to the scorching heat. From tears that burned behind his eyes threatening to spill.

Sylvain crouched in front of him, filling the entire field of his vision with red and honey and a burrow creased between his brows. “You’re upset. I’ll make you feel better,” he said, prying at Felix’s thighs.

“Don’t,” Felix croaked, voice cracking. “Please don’t, Sylvain.”

Finally saying his name out loud broke something in him. Felix threw himself at Sylvain, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him into his arms. Sylvain tensed but didn’t move, bracing both their weights on the balls of his feet.

Felix held him close, twisting his hands into those red locks that felt just as soft as he remembered. He was shaking, a full-body tremor that surely Sylvain could feel. “This isn’t how I wanted to see you again,” Felix said into Sylvain’s hair. “I wish you had died instead, even though it meant you broke our promise.”

It took a long time but eventually, Sylvain hugged him back, arms wrapping around his back. It had been so long since Felix let himself be held; it felt like coming home - warm and safe and _Sylvain_. Tears pooled on his lashes.

For a moment it seemed like Sylvain was going to say something and Felix was prepared to accept whatever it was, but nothing came. Just a warm embrace that slowly relaxed as Sylvain dropped his head into Felix’s shoulder. Sylvain clung to him almost painfully, shaking, desperate, like he hadn’t known a gentle touch in a long time. It was probably the truth, Felix supposed, as much as it hurt to think about.

“I’m glad you’re safe, Fe.”

Really, Sylvain always knew the best and worst things to say. Felix couldn’t tell which that was.

Sylvain surely had enough words on either side of the emotional spectrum for him to fill texts.

Betrayal. Hurt. Anger.

Relief. Gratitude. Elation.

But those five words struck him right through his core and the single syllable of an age-old nickname sounded so right in Sylvain’s vulnerable voice.

Felix held him tighter, as though doing so could make up for everything that went wrong in their friendship. A friendship he was grateful even existed at all. One that had survived even if only barely.

An entire decade’s worth of repressed emotions unraveled with the drop of that first tear, one of many more to come. And somehow, just like the last time he’d cried, Sylvain was here to hold him through it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading <3 
> 
> I have a few ideas for continuations but can't decide which one to do and would love your thoughts! Please let me know if you'd be interested in one (or more!) of these!  
> > Felix having to show Sylvain off to keep him  
> > Felix and Sylvain having The Talk and just general feels, hurt, and comfort  
> > what happens to them after they destroy TWSitD  
> > Sylvain pov
> 
> I am on [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/laughtales_)! Please come talk to me about these two disasters.


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